Recollections of Henry Watkins Allen, brigadier-general Confederate States army, ex-governor of Louisiana

Front matter

A.

OP

BRIGADIER-GENERAL CONFEDERATE STATES ARBOT EX-GOVERNOR OF LOUISIANA,

Appendix

Message to Legislature.— Governor Allen and Missouri. — Letter of Instruction

to Colonel . — Ladies of New Orleans to Allen. — Correspondence. — Bon-

necage and Farragut.— Demand for State Papers by Herron.— The Mexican Times. — Tribute to Allen. — Leaves from Journal of Allen's Friend near Grand Gulf. 877

Preface

Many friends of the late " Confederate" Governor of Louisiana, cognizant of the close friendship and intimacy which existed between us, instigated by an affectionate curiosity, awakened naturally by the unusual circumstances in which, as a people, we find ourselves placed at this epoch of time, — desirous to know all that can be made public of the private life of one so justly beloved, who expiated in exile the " crime" of having fought for us and served us, — these still grateful friends have requested me to write a sketch of his life and give it to the public. It is very essential, for the sake of Southern honor, and the position which may be accorded us in the future pages of impartial histor^^, that we, Southern people, should also put on record on the files of Time, so far as we can, our version of the terrific struggle in which we have been so recently engaged, and from which we have emerged — after four years of unparalleled suffering, gallant resistance, and stern endurance of, all the fiercest vicissitudes of any war ever waged by any peoples — broken in fortunes, defeated in battle, crushed, bleeding, and subjugated I Yet, amidst the misery and ruin that surround us, we feel sadness, but no confusion of face ; regret, but no humiliation. We did put lives and wealth in the balance of fortune, risking, and willing to risk all for what we considered more valuable than they. We believed our rights invaded, our liberties attacked, and we fought to defend them as well as we could.

" That for wliicli man offers up his blood or his property mast be more valuable than they. In short, only for the nobility within us, only for virtue, -will man open his veins, and offer up his spirit. But this nobility, this virtue, presents different phases: with the Christian martyr it is faith ; with the savage it is honor ; with the republican it is liberty.

"Jean Paul F. Richter."

In the thought of the Southern people in 1861, all three sentiments were combined — faith, honor, love of libert^^ They conscientiously believed all these to be attached. I am, by no means, asserting here that it was so, — that the Republican party of the Northern States was, and had been for years, preaching with all the fervor and enthusiasm of Peter the Hermit, a crusade against Southern institutions, and outraging the Southern heart in its keenest and most vital susceptibilities ! That question must be decided in the mind of each individual, for him or her self. I only say, the Southern people thought so ! and acted under the force of that impression. The justice or injustice of their cause must be decided by a higher and more impartial Judge than I.

According to human judgment, success is the measure of righteousness in any cause. In that aspect, the South has been judged already. She fought — she was weak, she is defeated ! She, however — and on this point we must insist — she fought this war from beginning to end, believing' conscientiously sbe was doI..g only hnr natural duty.

The " Confederate cross," we were persuaded, was raised in honor, and when it sunk below the world's horizon, crimson with the blood of Southern men, shed so freely and so vainly, we felt it went down behind the purple sea of war without dishonor. Frankly and courageously, we, as a noble, true people should do, have accepted the issue from the red hand of Mars. It remains to be seen, whether those fraternal adversaries, who forced us into peace, overpowering us by superior numbers — whether they who have been the victors in this Titf^nic contest, are as great in the intoxication of success as we, the conquered, show ourselves to be, in submission. Our faults as a People are doubtless many, but deceit and hypocrisy are not among- them.

There will probably be as much instruction for us in the study and close examination of the men who have been prominent among us in our recent contest ; as many lessons for us to learn of what is admirable and what is weak in the Southern organization, as, perhaps, pages of interest or pastime for the world beyond, in learning what sort of men they met in the shock of battle — what kind of Greeks they have overpowered !

To some extent the very fame of our recent adversaries is concerned in this matter. They should remember it heightened the glory of Achilles to have a Hector as an opponent I Some Homer, some Thuc^^dides, may hereafter arise for us both !

I do not, therefore, apologize for the spirit or expression of feeling, the tone of this work. It is only what would naturally be looked for in a Southern woman. I have some hope for my country, that it may yet live, even if " brokenly on," if President Johnson's policy can be sustained ; and would be loth to say or write one word which could frustrate his noble efforts. But regarding the War as being the full fruitage of the tree of Radicalism ; knowing that my people believed themselves fighting, not against the true version of the Constitution of the United States, but to sustain the fundamental principles of Republican liberty ; thinking that New England taught us the doctrine of Secession, which we were very desirous to apply peaceably, and were not permitted to do, — I do not hesitate to say openly what we thought, felt, and did, during the war. I write of what was^ not what is. I have nothing ta gain. I have nothing to fear. AYhy should T not write truth, for the sake of my dead friend, and my almosi: dead country I I believe in the continued though transformed existence of my friend. I have hopes in the resurrection of his body. I have some glimmering trust, some faint hopes, in the resurrection of my native land. Allah, Akbar I

12 PEEFACE.

We are grateful to the men who fought, bled, died, are in prison, or exile for our sakes I We ought not ! we must not I we cannot ! we will not, forget them 1

Hymns and paeans of praise ; essays in prose and verse ; orations, ovations, and triumphs, decreed to the heroes of the successful army, swell from the lips of poets and orators and writers in the North, and are wafted' to our ears on the wings of every breeze. Can we be expected to ignore, so soon, all that made our hearts burn and glow twelve little months ago ? Because we are unfortunate, because we have no sympathy in all this wide world, no royal coronations of wreaths or " golden crowns,^^ no clapping of hands to stir our souls, but are alone in our sorrow, must we forget deeds as brave and hearts as true as any the world has ever produced ?

Memory and gratitude are all that is left us. Our hopes are laid in the deep, deep graves scattered through our once fertile valleys. Are buried under the mounds, rising like beacons on our hillsides. Be silent then, and let us weep !

We are not mourning over a desolated land I The soil is quick and prolific. It will bloom again, even under the hands of the Invaders. We are not raising the sad lament over burnt homesteads or hearthstones dyed in blood I They can be rebuilt. We do not groan over riches that have flown away in smoke on the pinions of fire ; or that lie heaped in ashes at our feet ! We weep only for our Bead, our slain in battle, fallen in vain. We are weeping silently tears of blood in our seemingly quiet hearts, over that Man, the embodiment of our Cause, the faithful servant of our will, shut up so long in the dreary prison-walls of Fortress Monroe — for those beloved ones who have felt themselves di^iven by necessity away, " to lay their mutilated limbs in stranger soil." Day after day we number over the leaden hours and think of that man in that weary, weary prison ; the marks of the chains still on those noble limbs, that the generosity . and the strength of a great and victorious people ought never to have permitted to be fettered. We are not indifferent to all these things. We would be more or less than human if we were I But we are very patient, and are a very sad people I

What is tliere to fear from us now — from sick, worn, feeble, wounded men, broken down by care, anxiet}^, personal privation, and national distress — from a people sitting in sackcloth among the ruins of their homes !

On the sad day, June 1th, 1865, when my friend turned away from the door of our temporary home in Texas, and set his face pilgrimwise towards the West, — still dark, under the faint rays of the early morning, while we stood grouped around him, with aching hearts and eyes too full of tears even to see clearly the slender, worn, maimed form, the face so pale from fatigue and emotion, for whose dear sake we kept the tear undropped, and forced back the words of grief that would else have sprung bitterly from our lips, — as he pressed my hand for the last time, he said : ''I have been asked to give notes for my biography — I have not yet done it — but if you survive me, will you write it, if it should be asked for again ?" This request he often repeated in his letters — in the last one I ever received from him he makes it again.

The promise then given I now attempt to fulfil. I do not, therefore, in undertaking this task of friendship, waste the time, or exhaust the patience of readers with vain and useless apologies for unskilfulness and deficiency on my part. It is enough for me to know that my friend considered it wise to intrust the rendering of his life's history to my feeble hand, although I feel it to be a task better fitted to fingers used rather to handle the sword than the distaif.

It is an ambitious venture for a woman, with her feminine mind, which, though often acute, subtle, penetrating, and analytic, is too entirely subjective, to attempt in any way the writing of history. It was a mistake in the wise Greeks to make the Deity presiding over History, a woman. It needs the broad, objective grasp of the masculine soul to do justice to general History ; but women may perhaps write Biographies, just as they paint best, flowers, animals, subjects of still

• life, that require close, refined, loving scrutin}-, in which affection and patience may be useful in giving accuracy and penetration to the eye, and which require fine, dainty touches of the pencil, and minute, careful elaboration.

I know of no instance in any Literature where a woman has written general History in a manrer at all satisfactory. From Anna Commena to the still living Greek Princess Doria d'Istria, whose History of Roumania has some local celebrity ; Mrs. Strickland, Mrs. Pardee, etc., etc., have all merely written Biographies. But Annalists and anomalies must precede Livys and Tacituses. Women make very good storj'-tellers. So then, it is with no vain or audacious thought of attempting to enter the Arena occupied — if occupied by any woman, by the two Imperial Greeks, " born in the Purple of genius," as well as of temporal empire — that I take up my pen and relate in plain and simple style, the only way I know how to v.-rite, the story of the life and fortunes of one Confederate Soldier, whoso career involved grave questions of public history and interest.

It can readii}" be perceived how difficult it will be to write fully and unreservedly any man's inner life, and yet observe the reverence and decorum due to all other persons necessarily connected and mingled with that single existence ! I beg, therefore, that all those persons who may be incidentally mentioned in the course of this narrative, will do me the justice to believe that I shall try to say honestly what I have to say, endeavoring to free m.y mind from partialities and prejudices, regarding them as a painter does his subordinate figures, using them only to give light and shadow to his central group, and disposing them as well as he can to give vitality, distinctness, and prominence to the one portrait it is his aim to present to the world. This is only one difficulty I have to contend against in this pleasing task. Humboldt says, that in gazing at any star, each man sees it differently, owing to the diversity of the receptive power in the visual organs, common to all humanity. He saw eight rays of light proceeding from a single star, while other astronomers saw but four, or six, and some but two. So is it with mental vision. It is not your idea, My Reader, it is not anybodj^'s but my own, of the man whose life I attempt to sketch in the following pages, that I must place before you — it is what I saw, I must describe. And here arises another source of dissatisfaction between us. You may consider the drawing I make exaggerated, because I see eight rays where you saw but four ; or imperfect, because I see but two where 3'ou saw six. Coldly, a portrait of my wounded, exiled, dead friend, could scarcely be drawn by my pencil — too warmly, perhaps, you may think it.

Should this attempt be favorably received, I may be encouraged to progress still further in this, my labor of love ; like Old Mortality, freshening the epitaphs, which are already yielding to the corroding tooth of Time, on the gravestones of Southern heroes.

I may be able to lay a branch of Yew, on jomy grave in Augusta, oh I beloved, Spiritual Father, who sealed with your precious blood your pure devotion to your flock, unless it should be done by abler hands than mine.

Most of this work, where it touches upon the story of the War, is merely a compilation of caref il selections from official documents and contemporary journals. I ofier no apology for the literal and free use I have made of such papers, feeling assured the authors will justify such needful plagiarisms. I beg to acknowledge special obligations to Generals Beaure-

* " Thus the little ant (for she may serve for an example) of great industry, carries with her mouth whatever she is able, and adds to her heap, which she piles up, by no means ignorant of and not improvident of the future." — Horace

16 PEEFACE.

• gard, Mansfield Lovell, S. B. Buckner, and Pemberton. To Colonels Thomas H. Hunt, J. M. Sandidge, Henry Denis, Major E. Sinjet, of Taylor's staff; Captain Eglin, of Polignac's staff ; Captain James McCloskey, Mr. Halsey, Dr. Amzi Martin, Ex-Governor Ligon, of Maryland, Hon. F. Watkins, of Virginia, Dr. Lindsay, of IN'ew Orleans, and all the other friends of Ex-Governor Allen, who have aided me in procuring data for this Memorial.

" FiLIA."

Lake St. Joseph, Tensas Parish, Louisiana, July 16th, 1866.

OF

HENRY WATKINS ALLEN.

Book I

Birth.— Ancestry.— Childhood. — Youth.— Manhood.— Texas.— Marriage. — Death of Salome.

Henry Watkins Allen was born in the county of Prince Edward, near Farmville, State of Virginia, on the 29th day of April, 1820. His father. Dr. Thomas Allen, a graduate of Hampden Sydney College, was of Scotch extraction. Dr. Allen was a medical practitioner of some distinction; a man of sterling integrity and uprightness — indomitable in the vicissitudes of fortune — but who seems to have been somewhat stern and inflexible in his family relations. The mother of H. W. Allen — Ann Watkins — was descended from a Welsh family, who doubtless transmitted with the Cymric blood, its heredi- ' tary virtues of daring, valor, constancy, and impulsive tenderness, as well as its faults of impetuosity, sudden passion, and hastiness of revenge — for sometimes even imaginary insults or griefs. In the mother, however, as is often the case in women belonging to such fiery races, only the gentlest and softest characteristics were developed. The ancient British blood in her veins was truly " gentle." She was universally beloved, and only distinguished among her own ijoz by pre-

•

senting in her character all feminine virtues in their loveliest and most attractive form.

The first mention of a Watkins in the history of Virginia, was of one " James Watkins," a companion of " Captain John Smith," in his expeditions in 160*1 and '8.

Another of the family, Thomas Watkins, of Chickahominy, died in 1783. This ancestor seemed to think his children would succeed better in the battle of life, unencumbered with the burden of money. So he added a codicil to his will devising- large bequests of real and personal estate to persons " not members of his family." There was no proof of the execution of the writing purporting to be a codicil to the will, and it never went to record. By operation of the then existing law, the old man died intestate as to the property mentioned in the codicil; the real estate, therefore, descended to the eldest son, Henry Watkins, and the personal assets, by virtue of the will, went to the brothers and sisters. The sons and daughters, however, appear to have been anxious to carry out the old gentleman's wishes, though it deprived them of interests of value. There being some infants, minors interested in the succession, there seems to have been some diflSculties in fulfilling the intentions of the testator. But these were overcome, and the children not only relinquished to the intended Beneficiaries their right and title to the property in question, but also made liberal contributions to the intended Devisees. Instances of integrity and virtue such as this, are rare in any age. Henry and Thomas seem to have continued to be family names amongst these worthy people throughout their generations — names now borne honorably by the subject of this sketch, Henry Watkins Allen, and Thomas Watkins Ligon, his cousin, ex-governor of Maryland.

The Watkinses are related to many of the best Virginia families — the Fiuchards, Carringtons, Venables, etc., etc., etc. Thomas Watkins, grandson of Thomas of Chickahominy, deserves most honorable mention. His father resolved to give him the best advantages of education (these people always prized learning and cultivation, it socms), afforded b}^ the schools of the period of his youth, and although the Revolutionary War prevented the full execution of this purpose, Thomas received far more cultivation than was usually bestowed upon the sons of Planters. In 1^80, Thomas Watkins made an earnest appeal to the patriotism of his neighbors and youthful companions, to give him their aid in attempting to achieve the liberties of the country. By his efforts a troop of Horse was organized in Prince Edward County, and he was elected Captain of it. He offered his company of Cavalry to " Colonel Lee," and desired to be enrolled in his " Legion." Watkins' troop presenting a rather plain and unattractive appearance, his application was rejected ; subsequent events proved to Colonel Lee that he had acted unwisely, but when the Colonel, after the battle of Guilford, expressed a desire that the Prince Edward troop should join him. Captain Watkins indignantly refused to do it — he preferred serving under General Greene. This Troop has continued its organization to this day. The "Watkins troop" fought in the recent war. At the battle of Guilford Courthouse, March, 1Y81, Captain Thomas Watkins was distinguished for his gallantry: in single combat he won laurels. " Colonel George Washington" wrote a letter to Captain Watkins, after the action at Guilford, in which the bravery and skill of the Prince Edward troop and their commander is highly extolled and commended. Thomas Watkins died in ITQt. On his death-bed he revealed a secret, "that had pressed heavily on his soul, and caused him great unhappiness," he said, "from the time of its occurrence until the end of his life." In a personal rencontre with a British Officer, at the battle of Guilford, he gave, in his impetuosity, a mortal blow, with his sword, to his gallant adversar}", before he perceived that the Officer had asked for " quarter," and was surrendering his weapon. He said he Lad never forgiven himself this hasty act, but had mourned it in silence.

Doctor Thomas Allen had seven children born to him in his marriage with Ann Watkins. Mary, the eldest daughter,

20 KECOLLECTIONS OF

married the Hon. P. L. Edwards, of Missouri, now of California ; Elizabeth, the second, became the wife of Ephraim B. Ewing, Judge of the Supreme Court of Missouri. Both of these daughters are living. The eldest son, Nathaniel, was killed in the battle of San Jacinto, Texas ; the second son, William, served a campaign in Florida, removed to Missouri, died in Kay County ; the third son, Charles, a very promising young man, died also in Kay County, immediately after graduating at the University of Missouri ; the youngest son, Richard, at the age of fifteen years, joined General Price's command, and went through his Mexican campaign. Returning home, he remained but a short time in Missouri, then went to California, where he resides at present.

Henry Watkins was the fourth son of Dr. Allen. It would be easy for an Ethnologist and Psychologist to trace back the sources from whence he has derived those personal characteristics which have given him some fame in the history of the South. The Scotch blood, with its proud independence and its determinate resistance to the ruggedness of fortune ; the Cymric, with its fire, its impetuosity, its soft-he arte dness ; and the American principles — the Revolutionary pride, instilled into him at his mother's knee — the models of military skill and burning Virginian patriotism amongst his ancestors held up, as examples and stimulants, before his youthful mind — all these influences could scarcely fail to produce a proud, romantic, chivalric nature, in which we find so much to admire, — perhaps something to condemn — a courageous rashness, an impulse to strike at a word, which oftentimes leads, indeed, sometimes did lead, to sorrow and regret in our hero, for a hasty speech or angry stroke; as the same qualities produced in his grandfather, at the battle of Guilford, an act which caused lifelong self-reproach.

But there never was any malice or nursing of wrath in this nature ; — rash, but true ; quick, but not malignant ; flashing with sudden ire, but sweet and sound in temper ; with nothing hidden, nothing mean, heartfelt warmth, earnest affection,

HEI^TRY WATKINS ALLEN. 21

constancy, generosity, no revenge, with a softness and tenderness of soul almost feminine. Behold here the qualities which have made the name and memory of Henry W. Allen a sound of love and pleasant recollections in the ears of Louisianians, and which forced them to turn away with poignant regret from the thought that he should have been compelled to divide his fate from that of the Land of his birth, and to lay the limbs, mutilated for her sake, in the sad grave of an Exile.

In 1833, Doctor Allen removed to Kay County, Missouri, with his motherless children, leaving the remains of his gentle Wife, the sweet, tender mother, to rest under the daisies that spring so abundantly all over the green sods of Virginia. Doctor Allen's natural sternness was perhaps increased by the very great grief he experienced in the loss of his incomparably lovely Wife. He mourned her always, but in silence, shutting up his sorrow in his own heart. He was a devout man, according to the rigid tenets of Scotch Presbyterianism, in which denomination he was conspicuous, being what is called " an Elder" in their organization. His faith was firm, his aspirations lofty, his integrity undoubted ; strong, able, compressed in nature, reserved in speech, immutable in will, immaculate in character, not unloving, but never demonstrative ; a man who would be felt as a power, an influence in any position or Society.

While en route fi-om Virginia to Missouri, a little incident occurred which exhibits the fugose temperament of the child Henry. His father reproved him for some petty misdemeanor, harshly, in words that so wounded the sensitive heart of the child, that they turned all his natural sweetness of temper into gall, and made him gloomy, furious, and miserable — so miserable he desired to die. The transit of the family was made overland — there being few facilities of water-carriage in the West at that period. Whilst Henry was in the midst of his tempest of passion against his father, himself, and the whole World, the family caravan arrived at a narrow bridge, over a very deep stream. As the wagon crossed this bridge, Henry observed that it shook and swayed fearfully under the heavy weight. The father drove very carefully and slowly, seeing the tremulous vibration of this Western Al Sirat ; but the ang-ry, dauntless child was seized with a sudden desire to put an end to his own wretchedness, and to revenge himself on the whole party. Springing from the wagon, when it reached the middle of the rocking bridge, he deliberately set himself to leaping up and down upon it, frantically hoping to make it give way from its already trembling supports. Of course he was instantly seized by his alarmed friends, and his impotent childish rage being appeased, exhausted itself in floods of penitent tears. He never could be governed by brute force ; but gentleness and persuasion were irresistible powers over his quick sensibility.

Henry had attended school in Virginia, from the house of his uncle Henry Watkins — for whom he was named — and for whom all the contemporary members of the family appear to have had the deepest reverence and the highest estimation. The School he went to was a mixed neighborhood school, such as are common in the South in rural districts, " Where," writes a schoolfellow of his, *' Henry was distinguished for his aptness to learn, for his high-toned honor and politeness, especially towards the little girls, whose champion he w^as always ready to be, as well as of the younger and weaker boys. He had always a blow prepared for any sort of an Oppressor; though he was quite obedient to rule, never was contumacious nor unforgiving." Even as a child, he had found the fairy secret of winning love from those about him. A secret he had either inherited or learned on the soft bosom of his mother — " Love begets love I" He retained it through life, being, even to the day of his death, simple, frank, eager, grateful, demonstrative — some might have thought to excess. But in spite of Mr. Locke, and the profound Reasoners of his school, every-day experiences teach us, that nature, like murder, " will out," to a greater or less extent. Proclivities may be restrained, they can rarely be eradicated, and so Henry was always more like his warm, loving, Welsh mother, than his reserved, colder, Scotch father. Henry was sent to school for awhile in Missouri. Dr. Allen now decided to make a merchant of this son.

So he was taken from school, which he quitted most reluctantly, and put in the store of S. B. Stramacke, in the little town of Lexington, Missouri. He acted here in the capacity of store Boy, at first — later, as an under Clerk. He remained here twelve months, but his tastes were not for trade, the life and its occupations were insupportable to him. He longed to go back to school to pursue his studies, so rudely broken off in the midst of his ambitious application to them. Books were always his delight. To become a lawyer, or better still, a soldier — his earnest, eager, boyish dream of glory and distinction I'^ Dr. Allen, growing slowly conscious of his son's great unhappiness in the career his paternal prudence had marked out for him, seeing Henry's unconquerable distaste to mercantile life, yielded at last to his son's importunities, and removing him from Mr. Stramacke's establishment, permitted him to enroll himself among the students of Marion College, Missouri. AVe will see later in the history of our hero, that the knowledge of trade, and the laws which govern it, that Henry learned at Mr. Stramacke's, during what he then_ regarded as lost and misapplied time, proved of immense value to him and to thousands of human beings under the exigencies of his gubernatorial responsibilities. But he was now very glad to get away from counters and book-keeping. He remained at Marion College only two years ; his College friends speak of him with great affection. Amongst these were Slaybrock, Page, the Bentons, and Brant of Missouri ; Poller of Texas ; and Charles Singleton of Now Orleans.

While at College he heard accidentally that his father had been insulted by an officer of the State militia. Just at that hour, Henry was not altogether pleased with his father. Loving each other profoundly, yet there was no affinity between the reserved father, cold and rigid as Brutus, and the impulsive, impassioned son. As Henry advanced in years, he learned to value his upright Father, to understand and reverence the fine, strong nature ; but during his childhood and youth, it was only his Mother, and his Mother's memory that he worshipped, with a lavi'^"' idolatry, that neither time, absence, nor death itself was ever strong enough to lessen. Even to the day of his death, in speaking of her, his voice trembled and took a softer tone. But he would not allow his old Father to be insulted, so he sat down immediately, wrote to the Officer, demanding either an ample apology to his Father, or a hostile meeting without delay. The apology came. His companions of this period declare him to have been aflectionate, generous, and just, but impatient of ridicule, and sensitive to a fault, in what he esteemed "jnatters of honor," of which, even at that early age, he had formed his oiun code ! He had a merry, light heart, an April temperament, full of sunshine, yet clouded in an instant with sorrow. Alwaj^s ready for fun or frolic ; a lithe, active frame, thrilling with nervous energy. Stung by some fancied wrong at the hands of his Father, Henry resolved to leave College and be "independent." "Honor, independence," those two words, and the qualities they represent, were the master-keys in the intricate wards of his impetuous, often suffering heart, through life. One other passionate desire, the love of being loved, the love of approbation, was as strong in him then, as Dr. Brown says, " it should be," in all human souls ; as strong as it was in the exquisite soul of Mozart, who wept when his friends hesitated in responding to the naive question of the wonderful Musician — " Il^aimez-vous Men .^" It is a beautiful chord in a human soul, especially when it is the dominant — that of honor, self-reliance, and love! It was beautiful in this boy's heart.